


something good

by SoIntoYou



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dating, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, Mostly Fluff, Weddings, kindergarten teacher Sansa, lawyer Margaery, slowburn with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9304658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoIntoYou/pseuds/SoIntoYou
Summary: Sansa Stark is a kindergarten teacher. Her life is normal, until she unexpectedly finds herself falling for the mysterious guardian of one of her students.





	

 

Sansa Stark was flustered. There was still nearly an hour until the end of the day, but her kindergarten classroom was running amok. “Shireen, sit down,” she said loudly to a six-year-old girl with an impish smile. Instead of listening, Shireen continued scribbling a colorful drawing on her paper, ignoring the howls of the neighbor whose crayons she had stolen.

Sansa heaved a heavy sigh and put a hand to her sweaty forehead just as her classroom door opened and a strange woman with beautiful, glossy brown hair poked her head in.

“Excuse me?”

Sansa whirled around. The class turned with her, and their raucous noise seemed to quiet down for just a split second before resuming at high pitch.

The women stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, and pushed a pair of aviator sunglasses up onto her head. “Hi,” she said, unfazed by the din. Her voice sounded like an actress’s, or a famous celebrity’s--she just sounded like one of those people who was important. Sansa was stunned for a moment by her beauty. Creamy skin, mouth turned up in a rosy smile, blushing cheeks, bright blue eyes and long doe lashes. Each part of her face was rather unremarkable on its own, but together they melded to present a winsome and charming picture.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Tommen.” The woman smiled at her. Sansa smoothed both sweaty palms on her dress, which was navy blue and trimmed with a pattern of sailboats. She wished briefly for just a speck of this woman’s polish, in her well-tailored business suit.

“And you are… family?”

“Sort of.” The woman’s smile stayed unflappably calm. “We’re related.”

Tommen came over, running in childish excitement. “Auntie Margy!”

Margaery smiled. “We have a doctor’s appointment, so that’s why he has to leave a little early.”

“We usually do pick-up outside at 2:30,” Sansa reminded her.

“Of course.”

“Okay.” Sansa smiled. “Bye, Tommen. See you tomorrow!”

The woman looked at Sansa, her blue eyes filled with warmth. She held Sansa’s gaze for just a moment longer than expected. “I’m Margaery. It’s nice to meet you.”

The woman smiled and ushered Tommen out of the classroom. And when Sansa turned back to her noisy class full of five year olds, she realized she was blushing.

 

 

“So then I told him, ‘Why don’t you just have them to try a different formation?’” Dany was gesturing with one hand, clutching her mug of coffee to herself with the other. Sansa made quick adjustments to her lesson plan as she listened to her best friend. “That’s how it works, right? Just move those kids around like action figures?”

Dany was complaining as usual about her boyfriend, Drogo, who coached the baseball team at the all-boys’ private prep school the next town over.

Sam Tarly gave an awkward laugh from the copy machine, where he stood Xeroxing endless packets. He was genuinely amused, Sansa knew; it was just that all of his laughs sounded like that. “Maybe he should have just told them to knock it off?”

“I know, right?” Dany exclaimed. “I swear, that man is a great coach but sometimes he just seems to lack common sense. He could never handle a class of rowdy sixth graders the way _you_ do, Sam.”

Sam blushed, his entire round face and neck reddening above the button-down and tie he wore. One would never think that such an awkward-seeming man would make such a great teacher, but Sam’s prowess as a sixth-grade teacher was unrivaled. Plus, his quiz bowls were legendary—students from all grades stayed hours after school just to participate in Mr. Tarly’s epic quiz bowl club. Sansa had known Sam since college—they’d gone to the same school, her father’s alma mater, and Sam was best friends with her older brother Jon. She was extremely fond of Sam. They’d gone through the same teacher training program, and he was the one who’d let her know the school was hiring two years ago when she had just graduated from college, fresh with her elementary school license.

“So what are you teaching the rugrats today, Sans?” Dany eased back in her seat and took a sip of coffee.

“Oh, just phonics, and they get lots of coloring and unstructured playtime. The usual.”

Dany and Sansa had been fast friends ever since Dany joined the staff last year, probably the most glamorous third-grade teacher that Rhaenys Targaryen Open School had ever seen. Sansa had been intimidated until Dany grabbed her one day and started effusively complimenting her on her shoes (bird-printed flats). They’d then become teacher buddies, chatting every day before classes and during recess. Dany’s real passion was social justice, and she wanted more than anything to take off for India, Thailand, or somewhere like that, to go teach women in underdeveloped areas. For now though, she was saving her money. The real reason she was reluctant to go was, as she confided in Sansa, the boyfriend that she spent much of her time complaining about, but really loved more than anything.

Sansa checked her watch and stood up, gathering her papers. “Got to go, recess is almost over!” She blew Dany and Sam a kiss. “See you two later.”

 

 

At pickup time the next day, Sansa wasn’t surprised to see a gorgeous blush-pink convertible pull up. The woman who got out pushed her familiar gold-framed aviator sunglasses up over her glossy brown hair, and smiled as she strode toward Sansa. “Hi, Sansa,” she said easily. Sansa smiled back at her.

“Hi.”

“Sorry I’m a little late,” Margaery said by way of greeting. “I was coming from downtown.”

“Oh, you work downtown?” Sansa said casually. Margaery grinned at her. “Yeah.”

 _Businesswoman, attorney, banker, advertising executive, or some other type of corporate bigshot?_ Sansa couldn’t help but wonder what it was that Margaery did. Her thoughts stayed firmly in daydreaming territory even as she helped the other students and parents in the carpool line.

 

 

Sansa looked over her classroom the next morning, reflecting on how much she loved each and every one of her kindergarteners.

Tommen sat in the corner, drawing a picture of a kitten. He was a sweet little boy, less interested in his letters than he should be, but very placid and happy.

In the reading corner, a knot of little girls sat—that’s where Sansa had always been in kindergarten, tucked into a book of fairy tales. She watched as one bossily lorded over the others, making them sit just so. One of them caught her looking and flashed her a huge grin, pearly baby teeth gleaming and all of the front ones missing.

Sansa smiled back.

She couldn’t get Margaery’s face out of her head. That smile, those eyes—and the warm way she _looked_ at Sansa! Could she be making it up? Maybe she was just friendly. Maybe Sansa was convincing herself of something that wasn’t there.

But she just couldn’t stop thinking about the other woman. 

 

“Someone’s got a cru-ush,” Dany said, walking by. Her lilac sundress floated around her body. Today she wore gold sandals and matching dangly gold earrings. Unlike all the other teachers who, Sansa included, tended to play it safe and dress in a conservative, kid-friendly manner, Dany dressed as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of a Free People catalogue.

“Huh?” Sansa leaned against the wall of her classroom. “What are you talking about?”

Dany raised her eyebrows and gave Sansa a pointed once-over, taking in her pale pink sleeveless shirtdress and low heels. There was also the matter of her carefully applied makeup and carefully blown-out hair—a far cry from Sansa’s usual mascara-and-chapstick look.

“Oh,” Sansa said, face heating, “I just… you know.”

“You look really cute,” Dany praised her. “Now who’s the lucky guy?”

“Um…”

“Oh my god. Is it a _dad_? Seriously, I never thought you had it in you to be that naughty! Please tell me he’s a single dad. Homewrecking is never a good look.”

Sansa sighed, looking around at her eating kindergarteners. None of them seemed to be in any imminent danger, so she turned her shoulder slightly and confided, “It’s not a dad.”

“Good girl.” Dany sighed dramatically. “I may talk a good game, but you know, that’s just not right. Especially when students are involved.”

Sansa bit her lip. “It’s… one of the student’s guardians. Not a parent.”

“Oooooooh!” her friend exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch. “I need details!”

“No, Dany, listen. It’s—it’s a woman.” Sansa stared at her friend, feeling herself blushing. Her stomach was doing somersaults.

Dany’s entire face lit up. “Are you serious? Sansa—that’s _amazing._ What is she like?”

“Um. Stunning,” Sansa said truthfully. She relaxed against the wall, her whole body easing in a warm glow as she thought about Margaery. “So glamorous, and gorgeous, and so friendly and warm, and intelligent and just so easy to talk to—although of course I’m always so nervous when I’m around her, she probably thinks I’m an idiot—”

“Of course she doesn’t—”

“And I have no idea if she even _likes_ me, maybe she’s just being friendly, I have no idea.”

“Sansa.”

“And I have to dress up to look nice, because when I see her I probably won’t even have the guts to talk to her, I'll just turn away and ignore her like a—”

“You really like her,” Dany said softly. “Oh my god. Well, don’t worry. I’m not going to let you ruin this before you even get a proper chance.”

 

 

That day at pickup, Margaery sauntered up to Sansa as if they’d known each other for years. “Well, just look at you,” she said, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. “A full day with kids under age 6, and you still look this gorgeous? How do you do it?”

Sansa opened her mouth, blushing. It was kind of hard to make words come out. Luckily she was saved by sweet little Tommen, who came running up behind her, loudly announcing his entrance.

“Auntie Marg! Auntie Marg! Look what I made!”

Margaery squatted down in her stiletto heels to give him a big hug. She pulled back and said, “Let me see, little man! What did you make?” And she inspected Tommen’s finger painted page as seriously as if it were a minor Michelangelo. “Wow, that’s great,” she cooed appreciatively. “Did Miss Stark help you with that?”

Tommen nodded, pulling back and hugging Sansa’s leg. He looked up at her adoringly.

“She’s pretty great, isn’t she? Don’t you think you have the best kindergarten teacher in the world?” Margaery asked him. She glanced up at Sansa and winked. Tommen nodded happily, clinging tighter to Sansa.

“Miss Stark is the best teacher in the _whole_ _world_ ,” he said enthusiastically. Margaery gave Sansa a look that was several shades more significant than the usual don’t-kids-say-the-darndest-things look that adults usually exchange over kids’ heads. Margaery reached out to ruffle Tommen’s hair. “Okay, Tommy, go grab your backpack.”

As soon as Tommen had run off, Margaery cleared her throat. Sansa’s heart did a flip when she stepped a little closer. “So, I was wondering if the best teacher in the whole world is free for coffee this Friday,” she said casually. “After school. Tommen’s going to the zoo with his sister, so I’m not picking him up. I thought we could check in, talk about how he’s doing.”

“Sure,” Sansa said, her voice sounding like it was somebody else’s, too cheery and bright. “Yeah, definitely. That would be great.”

Margaery flashed her another million-dollar smile. “Great. So I’ll pick you up here, after school on Friday? Shall we say 3:00?”

“Yeah,” Sansa said breathlessly. “Perfect.”

Dany came out of nowhere as she swerved up next to Sansa, standing there watching Margaery leave.

“Wow.” They watched together as Margaery opened the back door of her pink Corvette for Tommen to clamber in. Dany sighed. “Let me just say that if I wasn’t with Drogo, I would be all over that.” She turned and gave Sansa a look. “Please tell me you’re not going to deny yourself a chance with that.”

Sansa was blushing all over. “Well, I think she just asked me on a date, so…”

“Whoa, seriously?” Dany grabbed her hands. “That’s amazing! I’m so, so happy for you! What, when…”

“It’s just coffee,” Sansa said, trying to downplay the excitement she felt. “And… like… I don’t know if it actually counts as a date, you know?”

“Well, she asked you to go somewhere with her at a specific time, right? That’s good.” Dany was smiling broadly. “Sans, that’s _so_ great.”

“I know.” Sansa’s heart was pounding in the aftermath of nerves. “But Dany… what do I _wear_?”

 

 

The little formal details of dates had always been what tripped Sansa up when she was younger. Now that she was a full grown adult, she managed to smile gracefully and muddle through in what she hoped was a sort of awkwardly charming way when Margaery stood behind her in line and smoothly paid for both their coffees.

After _way_ too much deliberation, she had chosen a casual yet cute outfit, a soft baby blue sweater that fell open over an ivory camisole. Her hair fell loose and slightly curled, and she was wearing some comfortable skinny jeans and black ballet flats.

Margaery had just come from work, and you could tell. But she looked very good, her hair clipped halfway back, her pink lips pursed in curiosity as she asked Sansa how her day had gone.

“It was good,” she said, with a nervous laugh. “The usual.”

“And what’s that?” Margaery leaned in, as if she couldn’t think of a more fascinating topic of discussion.

Sansa was used to people dismissing her when she told them her profession, as if she just babysat kids all day. But Margaery seemed wildly interested, and kept asking her thoughtful questions. “Education is so important. Early literacy is the whole reason I got into law school.”

Margaery was, in fact, a lawyer. “I’m an in-house specialist for my family’s corporation. But my heart is really in pro-bono. I do that for an organization that helps...”

They continued to chat for a while. The conversation flowed, and Sansa only felt a little bit awkward. Overall, it felt comfortable, easy, and _nice_.

“I didn’t really ask you here to talk about Tommen,” Margaery said at last. “I know he’s doing great. He’s an amazing kid.”

“I… think I knew that,” Sansa said coyly. Words seemed to evade her.

“He’s a great kid, and I know he’s doing well. But I, um, was a little more interested in his hot teacher.” Margaery bit her lip, grinning naughtily. “Not to, like, objectify you or anything.”

Sansa couldn’t help but grin back. “I don’t feel objectified at all.”

 

 

The next day she smiled at Tommen when he came in, trying to stem the rush of inner monologue that overcame her. _I went on a date with your—who is she, anyway? Your aunt? Your stepmom? Your family friend?_

Sansa resolved to ask Margaery the next time she saw her.

 

 

Somehow she just forgot, when she was standing on her doorstep next to Margaery after yet another amazing date.

 _(Sansa leaned over in the seat of Margaery’s pink convertible, and Margaery put her hands on her face and kissed her messily and hungrily. "_ _God, I feel like I’m in high school again,” Margaery breathed with a little giggle. She glanced towards the backseat, gesturing slightly with her chin. “Should we…?”_

_Sansa eagerly acquiesced._

_“I feel like such an easy lay,” she joked awkwardly, afterwards._

_Margaery laughed. “Oh, well, I promise it’s just as much as fun on a bed.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously.)_

“Good night.” Margaery smiled at her.

“Good night.” Sansa took a deep breath, and stayed right where she was. She looked back at Margaery.

Margaery brushed her thumb gently over Sansa’s lips. Then she leaned in and kissed her. She smelled amazing, and tasted even better; and Sansa felt like she was melting.

“Good night,” she whispered again.

She went into her apartment feeling like she was tripping on rainbows, and dancing in a dream.

 

 

On their next date, which was momentous because it marked the first time that Sansa visited Margaery’s beautiful downtown loft, Margaery made dinner. She whipped up a salade Lyonnais, and while she was cooking, she uncorked a bottle of wine that must have been corked with magic or something, because Sansa never remembered any wine she’d ever had tasting this good.

“This is amazing,” Sansa gushed.

“I spent a lot of time in France growing up.” Margaery smiled, and then rolled her eyes at herself. “I know, so pretentious. My family’s company just had a lot of European shares back in the mid-90s. I mean, we still do.”

Margaery scooted closer to feed Sansa a bite. That wasn’t the only thing she offered to Sansa’s mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” Margaery whispered, stroking her cheek.

Sansa’s heart stammered, and so did her tongue. “I—you’re beautiful,” she whispered back, inarticulate in her ardor. She laced her fingers through Margaery and looked down at them for a moment, suddenly shy.

“This is so wonderful… for you to do all of this. You really didn’t have to,” she said softly.

“Are you kidding? I wanted to,” Margaery breathed. “That means I get to be with you, seeing how gorgeous you look in that dress.”

Just then, a beautiful, lithe young man walked in. He was slim and muscled, in a baby blue cotton T and perfectly cut jeans. He came up and squeezed Margaery into an affectionate hug from behind. “Hey, sis.”

Margaery squirmed in his arms, laughing. “Loras! Too tight.” She turned her head to give him a kiss on the lips. Apparently her European ways extended to these things too. Sansa realized that once they two were next to one another, they looked as alike as twins. Loras’ shoulder-length curly hair was the same brown as Margaery’s.

“Sansa,” Margaery said, “this is my big brother, Loras.”

Loras came over, smiling. “Sansa! Margaery has told me so much about you. It’s such a pleasure to meet the woman who’s made my sister so happy.”

He sounded genuine, and he ignored Sansa’s extended hand to sweep her into a warm hug instead. Sansa’s heart went warm and gushy at the thought of Margaery telling her brother about her.

Sansa managed to close her mouth from her staring. Loras looked vaguely familiar. “Have we…?” she managed, smiling politely while trying to sound casual and also not to drool.

Loras gave a modest eye roll, shrugging. “I, uh, play for a local soccer team. The King’s Landing Crowns.”

Which was only the major league soccer team of the region, and which had predominated the sports scene for the last five years due to their reigning status as national champions. No easy feat, in a state that favored winter sports.

“I’m just finishing the salad dressing,” Margaery said. “Is Renly going to be here soon?”

“Yeah, he’s downstairs with the dessert. I’ll help him up.” Loras flashed them a grin and loped down the stairs.

“And… of course your brother is a pro athlete,” Sansa said incredulously.

Margaery shook her head, laughing. “Believe it or not, he’s kind of the black sheep of the family. He’s the only one who rebelled and refused to join our company. Of course, we’re a major sponsor of his league, so there really is no way to escape the Tyrell dynasty.”

“He actually looks really familiar,” Sansa said. She knew the Crowns, everybody did, but she didn’t have much familiarity with the individual players apart from when she watched the games on TV with her brothers.

“Oh,” Margaery said, looking like she was going to start giggling. “Well he does some part-time modeling on the side, too. Calvin Klein, Armani Exchange, that sort of thing.”

“That would explain it,” Sansa said faintly.

Loras appeared at the top of the stairs, hand-in-hand with a dark-haired man just as gorgeous as he was. “Sansa,” he said, beaming, “this is my boyfriend, Renly. Renly, this is Sansa, Margaery’s boo.”

Renly actually took Sansa’s hand and kissed it, smiling. “It’s so nice to meet you,” he said. Sansa felt like she’d fallen into a dream, with all these gorgeous people swanning around and gushing over her.

Margaery cleared her throat. “All right, everyone, I’ve finished! Time to eat!”

 

 

“Are you fucking serious? Her brother plays for the _Crowns?_ ”

“Shhh,” Sansa cautioned, laughing. Dany never seemed to be able to limit her vocabulary to school-sanctioned limits.

“And he’s a model. So basically, he gets paid for being hot.” Dany couldn’t stop herself, it seemed.

“I know, it’s almost intimidating how hot and accomplished the entire family is.”

Dany crossed her arms, staring at the playground thoughtfully. “Well, you shouldn’t let that stop you at all,” she said. A fifth-grade boy wandered by, starry-eyed. She smiled at him, and the boy blushed violently and ran away.

 

 

Because Dany was so excited about how well Sansa’s relationship was progressing, Sansa relented after several weeks of her begging to meet Margaery, and planned a night out for them and some other friends. “It’s going to be casual, though!” she said, holding up a warning finger, and Dany whooped with joy, clearly ignoring that last caveat.

At Sansa’s apartment, Dany was in charge of the music. She put something on and then spun around, grinning wolfishly. Sansa groaned as the unmistakable bass of Christina Aguilera’s “Woohoo” started blasting. Dany grinned even wider.

“Yeah, you _know_ I made you a playlist dedicated to oral sex.”

“Dany!” Sansa collapsed on the couch in a fit of laughter, caught between sheer embarrassment and delight.

“’Cause I _know_ you’re getting it every night from your hot new girlfriend.”

“Dany!”

Dany fell on top of her on the couch, crowing, “Because I _know_ my girl Sansa got that pussy GAME!”

“I can see I came at the right time,” said Margaery, standing with a suave smile in the doorway. She was smiling lightly, but her eyes were a little questioning. Dany jumped off of Sansa as Sansa sat up quickly, heart racing.

“You must be Margaery,” Dany said, bounding up to her. She was beaming from ear to ear. “I’ve seen you in the playground pickup line. Sansa _never_ stops talking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Margaery said politely. Dany nodded, and then without regard for the usual distance observed by virtual strangers, she stood on tiptoe and started whispering something into Margaery’s ear. Margaery’s smile spread and deepened as Dany whispered. When Dany at last pulled away, both women pulled back to stare with fondness at Sansa.

Sansa blushed. “Um, hi,” she said, getting up to give Margaery a quick kiss, purposefully restrained in front of Dany.

“Hi,” Margaery said, and when she leaned in for a kiss, she bit Sansa’s lower lip. Sansa laughed awkwardly and stepped away, smoothing down her skirt in an attempt to hide just how turned on she was.

Dany kindly pretended to ignore the sexual tension smoldering in the room.

“Well, I’d better get changed,” Margaery said, hefting her briefcase in one hand. “I just came from work.” She was dressed in a pencil skirt and a blouse, and looked perfectly fine for after-dinner drinks.

“You look great,” Sansa pointed out.

Margaery laughed. “Aww, thank you sweetie. But I brought something to change into.”

Sansa followed Margaery into the bathroom, hands trailing around her waist, but Margaery laughed and batted her away. “No, I have to change.”

Sansa put on her own dress as she waited for Margaery to emerge, and then--her jaw dropped at the sight of Margaery in a tight skirt and ridiculously sexy heels, showing a mile of leg. “Wow,” she said.

“Wow, _you_ ,” Margaery responded, and pulled Sansa toward her. She put her hands around Sansa’s waist and pulled her tight, pressing waist to waist. Sansa grabbed her ass, unable to hold back.

“You’re usually supposed to wait until after going out to make out like crazy,” Sansa pointed out breathlessly, laughing.

“All right.” Margaery kept her hand firmly on Sansa’s waist. “So let’s go out. What are we waiting for?”

 

 

It was a large group assembled at the bar. Dany gave a squeal of excitement when she saw her gigantic boyfriend perched on a barstool. “My man!” she cried in childish delight, and went up to him. Drogo’s imposing face cracked in a soft smile.

“He’s really just a puppy when it comes to her, isn’t he?” said Margaery in Sansa’s ear, wrapping her arms around her from behind. Sansa relaxed with a sigh. It felt good.

To Sansa’s delight, Sam Tarly had come out, accompanied by her brother Jon and his girlfriend Ygritte. Jon was pep-talking Sam, who was nervously downing a pint while eying a slender girl with mousy-brown hair who sat at the bar. “Okay, I’m going in,” said Sam with a big exhale. “Wish me luck.”

They all watched with bated breath as Sam went over to the girl. They were too far away to hear anything. The girl turned to look at Sam, her big blue eyes staring at him like a bemused animal. He was saying something with an embarrassed smile, and his usual endearing, self-effacing shrug. Then she gave a surprised giggle, and covered her mouth. Bobbing his shoulders awkwardly, Sam gestured toward the bartender, obviously having succeeded in getting permission to buy the girl a drink. Everyone burst into appreciative laughter and a little round of applause.

“It’s the tie,” Jon said happily. “It’s always the tie.”

Later, after a couple of tequila shots and a drink of whatever Dany was having, Sansa was happily off in la-la land. Sam ran over—“This is Gilly, everybody, Gilly!”—and they all clustered into a booth to have loud conversations.

She ran onto the dance floor. First she danced with Dany, and then she danced with Margaery. Surrounded by all of her friends, her best friend, and her brother, she had never felt happier.

She slung her arms around Margaery’s neck, and smiled.

 

 

A few days later she was surprised to see her brother’s number on her phone screen. “Robb!” she cried, picking up. On the line, she heard her brother’s husky chuckle. “I miss you! How are you?”

“I’m good, sis.” Robb’s calm baritone was always soothing. “How are you?”

“Great,” Sansa said honestly. “Really great.”

“That wouldn’t have anything to do with a new love in your life, would it?”

Sansa couldn’t stop the broad grin from spreading across her face. “Yes.”

“How is Dad taking it?”

Sansa rolled her eyes gently. Her dad was bullish about her dating habits. “Well, he was relieved when I said I was seeing a woman. I guess he thinks it’s less intimidating.”

“Well, he doesn’t have a sterling track record of yours to go on,” Robb pointed out gently.

Sansa bit her lip, stung. “Gee, thanks.”

“I’m sorry,” Robb said quickly. “Really, Sans, I’m sorry. You know I just want you to be happy.” _And your two ex-boyfriends just happened to be total dicks,_ he might have added, _who I hated_. Robb had made his feelings about her exes abundantly clear.

“Well, Margaery is totally different,” she said, brightly moving on. “She’s amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I can’t wait for you to meet her. Mom’s having a special dinner next Sunday night. Can you make it?”

“Sure, I’ll come in for the weekend.” Robb worked in a city a few hours away. “Tal has the weekend off, for once, so I’ll bring her too.” Robb’s wife was in medical school, after years as a nurse.

“Love you, Robb.”

“Love you, too.”

 

 

Her conversation with Robb had made Sansa nervous. But that weekend, a few hours into her and Margaery’s first visit to the Stark family residence, Sansa passed the living room and saw her father and Margaery in conversation, her father’s usual gruff countenance creased in a tender smile as he listened to her girlfriend.

Overhearing what they said, she just knew everything was going to be okay.

“I was just picking up Tommen, my sort-of nephew, and then I saw her. She was so beautiful,” Margaery said, her eyes glowing, “I knew I had to see her again. So I kept coming back, and she agreed to go on a date with me, and… well, here we are!”

Ned was smiling almost broadly now. “My daughter hasn’t seemed this happy in a long time. I’m very happy you’ve found each other.”

 

 

Sansa’s phone buzzed on her lunch hour the following day. “Hi Mom,” she said quickly, picking up.

“Hi baby.” Catelyn’s voice was smooth, but marked with warm excitement.

“How are you? Aren’t you at work right now?”

“I’m on my lunch break between classes, honey. I just wanted to say how lovely it was to have you over last night, and to meet your girlfriend.”

“Did you like her?”

“Did I like her!” echoed Catelyn incredulously, and Sansa laughed appreciatively, warmth suffusing her chest. “Sansa, she’s wonderful!”

“I know,” Sansa said, cupping the phone affectionately. She felt so dizzyingly happy.

“And I’ve never seen a woman so infatuated,” Catelyn said, her voice changing. Sansa’s heart clenched.

“Really?”

“I’m dead serious, Sansa.”

Sansa traced a pattern on the wall with her finger, feeling uncertain, and all of fifteen. This was ridiculous. She was twenty-five years old, a grown woman. She shouldn’t be feeling this uncertain.

“Sansa,” said her mother, her voice growing stern and soft all at once, “you can’t honestly be pretending you don’t see it. That girl is crazy about you, and if you let her love you, she will be around for a long time.”

Sansa tried to listen, tried to make the words sink in. But it all had the cast of wishful reality, not how things actually were.

“You need to get past the idea that no one could really love you.”

“Mama…”

Sansa’s throat was choked up. She hastily wiped tears from her face.  
  
“I know, baby. Just because your past two relationships were with complete jerks doesn’t mean you’re not worthy. You deserve every drop of this girl’s love, and you shouldn’t forget that.”

 

 

It was just an ordinary day when the bottom fell out of everything.

They were out for a Saturday night date, at a special new place that Margaery raved about, and Sansa was dressed up to the nines. She’d finally gotten used to going out with Margaery, both of them dressed up, as a couple. Dating a woman was so much more fun when it came to dressing up… well, when it came to just about everything.

They crossed the fancy, low-lit lobby of the restaurant, Sansa feeling proud and happy to be holding the hand of the beautiful woman she loved.

The well-coiffed hostess, elegant in a sleeveless black dress, looked up with a genuine smile. “Miss Tyrell!” she exclaimed. “How are you? It’s been a while since we’ve seen you in here.” She sent a warm smile Sansa’s way, too.

“Good, Rita, thank you,” Margaery responded.

“We’ve reserved your usual table for you,” Rita said, “the corner banquette.” She beamed, obviously glad to see Margaery. “And how is your husband?”

Sansa froze.

Margaery’s hand tightened around Sansa’s waist. “My _ex_ -husband,” she corrected, too brightly. “I’m with someone else now.”

The hostess’s eyes went from Margaery to Sansa, and Margaery’s arm around Sansa, and her face went red with embarrassed shock. “Oh my goodness—excuse me,” she said, flustered. “I—my mistake. I’m so sorry, I…”

Sansa couldn’t breathe. There was an iron vise squeezing in her chest. She was lightheaded with shock, the world spinning before her eyes. Margaery had been— _married_? And to a man? A man who she had brought to this restaurant, when it had been their special place? “Ex-excuse me,” she managed, before turning on her towering heels, the beautiful sling-back heels she’d bought just for this occasion, wobbly on her feet. She walked quickly through the foyer, holding her head high to avoid all of the curious stares she was getting from the restaurant patrons.

She broke out onto the sidewalk with a gasp, sucking in the cool night air as if it were a balm. Numbed, shocked, she paced without a single idea of what to do. _Maybe I should call a taxi_ — _?_ She fumbled in her purse for her phone.

And from behind her she heard the door of the restaurant open, and the unmistakable clatter of Margaery’s heels. “Excuse me,” she heard Margaery say to someone, and she turned her face away.

She started walking away.

“Sansa.” Margaery said her name from behind her softly and desperately.

She kept walking. The click of Margaery’s heels sped up; Margaery appeared at her elbow, grabbed her hands, made her stop walking. “Sansa, please listen to me.” Margaery’s face was pale but determined. “Just—please don’t walk away. I can explain.”

Sansa went limp in her hands, staring at the ground through a haze of tears. She couldn’t meet her girlfriend’s eyes. “Is it true?” she blurted. “You really were married, weren’t you? And you never told me.”

Margaery’s grip squeezed Sansa’s arms as she ducked her head, trying to meet Sansa’s eyes. “Sansa. Baby, I didn’t think it was important,” she said softly. “It’s in the past, and it didn’t have anything to do with us.”

Sansa shook her head silently, tears falling now. Sure, a past was the least she expected from Margaery, especially as glamorous and beautiful as she was—but a husband? It made Sansa feel like an afterthought, a nobody. Just a woman who felt like a little girl, whose girlfriend wouldn’t even tell her the truth. And Margaery knew all of her secrets, her pathetic, paper-thin dating past.

“I thought it would be different,” she said slowly, “with another woman.” She meant different from the boyfriends in her past, the sad little portfolio of two. Their lies, their thinly veiled threats. She’d thought Margaery was different, and she was—but this…

Margaery’s expression crumpled. She knew what that meant.

Sansa was shaking her head wordlessly now, over and over again.

“Let’s go home,” Margaery pleaded. “To my place. I can explain—it means nothing, but I’m sorry, I should have—”

She shook her head more violently. “No.” Her voice was tiny. “No, I just want to go home.”

“Let me take you.”  
  
“Alone.”

 

 

Margaery left ten messages on Sansa’s phone over the next few days. Sansa put it on speaker and listened, eyes overflowing with tears, as she lay on the couch, unable or unwilling to move. “Sansa… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this before. There’s a lot to explain, and I’m sorry. Please call me.” “Sansa, this is Margaery. Please call me.” “Sansa, it’s me. Call me. You deserve to know the whole truth.”

It was silly to feel this way when Margaery technically hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d been married, so what? It wasn’t that Margaery had been married to a man… Sansa knew that lots of women dated both genders, dated men before dating women, whatever. She herself had only dated men before Margaery. So why did this hurt her so much?

But she tortured herself with imagining past husbands for Margaery. Devastatingly handsome Frenchmen, cigarettes hanging from their lips, all tanned shoulders and Gallic six-packs. Chiseled teammates of Loras’s. Corporate hotshots in designer suits. How could she ever measure up?

When Dany came over, she groaned sympathetically at the sight of Sansa in her pajamas, curled miserably around a half-empty Ben and Jerry’s container, and said, “Just fucking call her. Give her a chance to explain.”

Sansa just rolled over on the couch and stared at her. Dany put a hand on her hip. “Do you really think you could feel any worse? It’ll be better when you know the truth.”

She wouldn’t answer her mother’s calls, so it was a surprise when her dad showed up on her doorstep.

He held the Kleenex box for her while she explained everything, sobbing the whole time.

“I think,” Ned said after a long pause, “that you should at least give her a chance to explain. She didn’t do anything wrong, did she?”

“No,” Sansa said miserably.

“Maybe you feel inadequate. That’s okay. I was scared when I first asked your mom out, too. But I don’t think that what is in someone’s past is a valid reason to rule them out of your life completely.”

Sansa took a deep breath. “Okay, Dad. You’re right.”

 

 

So they met at a park, on neutral territory. Margaery came holding two lattes, their mutual favorite, and Sansa clutched hers with nerveless fingers.

“So you really were married,” Sansa said, at last.

Margaery hesitated, her blue eyes wide with worry. “Yes. He was Tommen’s older brother.”

She sighed. “We went to law school together. Joffrey was a boy from the right family, and I knew that I didn’t love him. But my family thought it was a good idea.”

“But there were… signs.” Margaery paused. “I should have known it was a bad idea,” she said softly. “There are times when I still can’t believe I married him. But I’ve always done what my family told me.”

Sansa just listened, her skin like ice.

“The day he raised a hand to me, I walked out. My family protected me; we had an ironclad prenup. We parted basically the same way that we came together—neither family was any richer or poorer, we’d just had a lot of press.” Margaery looked pained. “Which I guess was the plan. Anyway, my family is doing better than ever, the Lannisters are suffering… but things are never as neat as they seem. It’s still messy. I really love Tommen, and he doesn’t have a lot of people on his side in that family. His dad is dead; his mom dotes on Joffrey. Joff’s younger sister is away at boarding school, and I make sure to keep in touch with her.” She sighed. “But that’s why I like to stay in touch with Tommen, and care for him.” With a rueful smile, she added, “Plus, I took out a restraining order against my ex-husband. Just in case.”

Sansa was shaking her head mutely. It was just so much to take in.

“But, Sansa,” Margaery said, leaning forward and taking her hand, “all of that means nothing compared to what I feel for you. I—I know I should have told you before, but it’s just such an ugly part of my past. I was hoping to save that when… well, what we have is so light and perfect and new.” She paused. “Obviously, it’s something I’m trying to work on. I see Tommen, after all. But Joffrey… I never see him, and for good reason.”

“The wedding was lavish, in all the society papers. Then our marriage lasted for six months—very Elizabeth Taylor of me, I know.” Margaery tried to smile. “The divorce was finalized about a year ago. I swore off dating. I didn’t want anything to do with it. Then I met you, Sansa… and you really changed my mind. There was just something about you, the first time I met you. Something good. Something clean, and something new. And I thought that even me, with my dirty past, with the secrecy and all that badness—maybe I deserved a second chance, a new beginning, with you.”

Margaery’s eyes were welling with tears.

“So… I understand if you can’t forgive me for being truthful with you. But that, all of those things that happened to me… none of that matters, when I’m with you. And I’m asking you to please consider that, and to not walk away.”

Sansa was crying, too. She shook her head. “I won’t leave you. I’ll never leave you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Margaery said in a whisper.  
  
They kissed on the park bench as dusk slid into night.

 

 

After that, everything steadied itself. Sansa was almost able to forget about the revelations about Margaery’s past as things returned to blissful normalcy between them. But then, at pickup, something happened.

In the school parking lot, she saw a blonde man emerge from an expensive black sports car. He stalked up to her without a hello, and instead addressed the little boy next to her. “Tommen, let’s go.”

Tommen shrank away, and Sansa’s heart sank. “Excuse me, but I think you should leave,” she said firmly, refusing to let go of Tommen’s little hand.

The principal, Brienne, came striding up. “Is there a problem?”

The man sneered. “Not at all. I’m here to pick up my little brother.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sansa saw the familiar pink convertible pull up to the curb with a squealing of tires and a familiar female figure get out. “Auntie Marg!” Tommen cried pitifully. 

Margaery hung back at the curb. “Joffrey, you need to leave,” she said coolly. She didn’t seem scared, but there was an anesthetized air to her that Sansa had never seen before.

Brienne looked at Sansa, and then at the two adults on the sidewalk, a questioning look on her face. “That’s Margaery, and that’s her ex-husband,” Sansa explained in a low voice. “She has a restraining order against him.”

Brienne looked at her, her lips pinched tightly shut. “I’ll deal with this.” She addressed the man firmly. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises.”

“Excuse me?” Joffrey whipped his head around to look at his ex-wife. He looked dangerous, like a vicious dog curling its lips. It was, quite frankly, terrifying.

Sansa could sense parents gathering around the perimeter of the argument, watching with worried eyes. Several had cell phones out. _Good. Somebody, please call the police_. As if her thoughts had been read by the gods, a squad car roared up right at that moment, and from behind her she heard Dany’s voice, strong but a little shaky, say loudly, “That’s him.”

Sansa sidled over to Margaery, still holding onto Tommen’s hand, and reached out to take her girlfriend’s hand as well. She gave it a comforting squeeze, trying to show that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Joffrey’s eyes slid between the two of them, at their clasped hands, and then narrowed. “Fucking dykes,” he spat at Sansa. She pressed Tommen’s head against her skirt, hoping desperately that he hadn’t heard.

“All right, you can tell that to the pavement,” Brienne said crisply, and gave him a neat shove that literally knocked him on his ass.

With perfect timing, two police officers strode up and cuffed Joffrey. “Sir, you’re being arrested for violating a restraining order, disorderly conduct, and…” They pulled him away down the sidewalk as he spat and snarled and tried to get away.

Margaery let go of Sansa’s hand and turned to her charge. “Tommen, are you all right?” She fell to her knees besides the little boy, who, it broke Sansa’s heart to see, was red-faced and snotty-nosed, crying softly.

“I hate Joffy… I hate him…”

“I know sweetie, I know.” Margaery wiped his nose and hugged him tightly to her chest. “I’m sorry, honey.” She gave Sansa a meaningful look over Tommen’s head. “It won’t happen again.”

Understanding for the first time just exactly who the woman she was dating was, Sansa nodded with fierce determination coursing through her veins. “No, it won’t.”

And at that moment, Sansa knew what she was going to do.

 

 

**_Two years later_ **

Sansa was nervous in a way that she’d never been before.

Two years of lazy Sundays, reading the newspaper in bed, teaching each other how to cook, watching silly rom-coms together, sharing clothing, surprising each other with flowers, being soft and vulnerable with one another—she knew that this was the woman she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

“Margaery,” she said breathlessly, her only focus on the beautiful woman in front of her, “will you marry me?”

There was a split second in which Margaery sucked in her breath, her blue eyes wide. Then she put her hand to her mouth and her eyes started to fill with tears. She started fanning herself with her other hand, breathing deeply.

“Oh my God,” Margaery said, “oh my God.”

The entire restaurant burst into applause around them, but the two of them could have been the only people in the whole world for all Sansa cared. She hugged her girlfriend—fiancée!—tightly around the neck, unable to believe that she’d said yes, that they would really be together for the rest of her lives.

 _I’m going to wake up with this woman every day for the rest of my life,_ she thought, staring in wonder at the woman before her.

It almost felt too good to be true.

 

 

**_One year later_ **

As Sansa walked down the aisle, she smiled tremulously to see her bride Margaery waiting there at the altar for her.

Tommen, now a sweet, stout third-grader, very grown-up at the age of 8, was their ringbearer. Loras was the best man, and Dany was the maid of honor, freshly back from her year in Nepal where she had established a school for underprivileged youth.

In the audience, she saw Sam and Gilly, Jon and his blonde girlfriend Val, Arya and her hunky college boyfriend Gendry, her parents, Robb and Talisa, Renly and Loras.

“You may now kiss the brides,” the justice of the peace said, smiling. The entire church erupted into whoops and whistles and raucous cheers as Margaery and Sansa leaned forward, holding each other tightly.

“I love you,” Sansa whispered.

“I love you more,” Margaery whispered back.

They both started giggling. It was a contest that neither of them would ever win--and both of them were happy to keep it that way.

 


End file.
